


Inventionis, Creatio, Intellectus

by Resy_Lesy



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allison Hargreeves (mentioned) - Freeform, Ben Hargreeves (mentioned) - Freeform, Gen, Genderqueer Five Hargreeves, Genderqueer Klaus Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19774114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resy_Lesy/pseuds/Resy_Lesy
Summary: Of course, all self-discovery starts with Klaus.





	Inventionis, Creatio, Intellectus

**Author's Note:**

> Do I have an insane amount of ideas for Five figuring out his orientation? Absolutely. So here's one idea out of like, ten billion.

Five peeks his head into Klaus’s room, raising his eyebrows. “What are you doing?” he asks, pointless in nature and execution. Irritation creeps into his voice. “I was _trying_ to read.”

Klaus doesn’t look up, waving Five off with a hand. “Shh. I’m trying to undo this knot.” Before Five can speak, Klaus glares in the air to his left. “Ben, you are _not_ helping.” Five glances around the room, a small flicker of confusion making its way across his face. Colored yarn covers nearly every surface - some even hangs in loops from the ceiling, though they weren’t attached to any hooks. “Yes, I know you’re holding them for me, but you critiquing my method is not making this any easier!” Klaus hisses, interrupting Five’s train of thought. He snaps his gaze back to Klaus as his brother stretches the yarn in his hands, creating some sort of bastardized cat’s cradle.

“Need any help?” Five asks, gingerly stepping into the room and avoiding the pools of wool spread across the floor. He sits himself down on Klaus’s right, shoving a set of thick books onto Klaus’s pillow. Klaus bites his tongue between his teeth, deft fingers pulling a few strands of blue into two separate lengths.

Klaus points to a mess of orange on his desk chair. “Can you be a dear and roll that up into a ball for me? Make sure to keep it loose - Mrs. Katz says if it’s too tight it’ll hurt the yarn and stretch it out.” Five raises an eyebrow once again, but nonetheless leans forward and picks up the end of the yarn. He’s looped up rope before, so this shouldn’t be too difficult.

“I take it we’re not the only ones in here, then?” Five asks, weaving the yarn between his fingers. Klaus gives slow directions, pausing to take instructions from someone Five can’t see. The ball Five makes starts off as more of a flat pancake, but Klaus doesn’t tell him to stop, so Five assumes he’s doing something right.

Eventually, Klaus answers. “Yep. Ben’s right there -” Klaus points with what Five thinks is some sort of sewing needle, but it looks much too thick to be one of Grace’s. “And over there -” Five follows his hands to the two footstools that have no yarn on them. “is Mrs. Katz and Mrs. Popova. They’re helping me learn how to knit.”

Five casts the footstools an unimpressed glare, and for a second, something icy travels down his back. “Are you sure?” he asks, switching his gaze over to Klaus. “You’ve been cursing up a storm for the past five minutes. I’ve been _trying_ to catch up on all the books that were burned during the _apocalypse_.” Five lets the anger seep into his voice, hefting the yarn into the air. “ _This_ still counts as an interruption.” He frowns and looks back at the mess covering Klaus’s room. “Where did you even _get_ all of this?”

“Local yarn shop was going out of business so I snagged what I could carry,” Klaus explains, shrugging. He nods over to the pile of books on Five’s right. “Got most of those there too. Feel free to look through them and _catch up on_ a new skill.” There’s a hint of nasty banter in Klaus’s voice, but the books _do_ pique Five’s interest. He sets the yarn down and moves the thickest tome into his lap, picking the yarn back up once he opens it. Five winds as he reads. Fancy pictures cover each page, captioned by directions. Each section is dedicated to a different thing - some clothes, and others specific stitches.

Five hums to himself as Klaus gives a terrified whimper. He flips through the pages, studiously ignoring Klaus’s prayers to whatever god he thinks exists as he fumbles about the yarn that’s falling apart in his fingers. Five taps his finger against a cozy looking jumper with annotations on how to add sparkly little buttons. “Dolores would’ve loved these,” he murmurs, closing the book with a soft snap. Memories flood him, some painful, some sweet. He moves onto a thinner book, next.

Five's burgeoning yarn ball lays forgotten, sandwiched between his thigh and Klaus’s as he flips through the second book. The words within give him pause.

“Klaus, this one isn’t about knitting,” Five points out, unsure of how to broach the subject.

Klaus looks up from where he’s shredding a knot of green with his monstrous needle. “Shit, did I grab one on crochet?” Consternation flickers across his face. “Mrs. Popova, you said _way_ worse when you were cursing out your murderers. You don’t get to scold me just cause you cussed in _Russian_.” Klaus sticks his tongue out.

“No,” Five says, slow, thoughtful. “I - it’s a history book about g - people like you.”

“Oh!” Klaus perks up, a wide smile breaking across his features. He drops the yarn into his lap, leaning over Five’s shoulder. He flips through the pages until he’s about halfway through. A bunch of multicolored flags cover the pages. “These’re pride flags. Half the reason I got all this yarn is so I could knit them.” Klaus taps a finger against one that’s pink, yellow, and blue. Five reads the word ‘ _pansexual_ ’ under it, with the relevant pages listed. “I’m gonna do this one first, followed by genderqueer.”

Five flicks his eyes across the page, his eyes landing on purple, white, and green. “'Genderqueer'?” The word is foreign on his tongue, but the concept isn’t hard to grasp.

“Mhm.” Klaus leans back on his wall, tongue between his teeth once more. The green had faded into white, and Klaus now picks it apart with ferocity. “It’s what I am. Why I wear skirts.” Klaus shoots him the side-eye, and Five rolls his eyes.

“I don’t have a problem with it, before you say anything,” Five snaps. He’s lived too long to think of something like that as unnatural. “I just don’t know the terms.”

Klaus gives him an easy, if not skeptical smile. “Feel free to go through it,” he says with a shrug. “But make sure to continue that ball, though. Mrs. Katz is getting antsy.”

* * *

A week later, when all the yarn has been rolled into soft balls and loopy skeins, Five blinks into Klaus’s room, the book clutched in his lithe fingers. Klaus looks up from where he’s wrangling a scarf around his legs, giving Five a goofy smile.

“Heya shortstack!” Klaus chimes, shifting into a sitting position. Five notes a skirt around Klaus’s hips, and mentally checks himself. “What’s up?” she asks.

Five bites his lip for the briefest of moments before pulling himself up to his full, albeit minimal, height. He hates how uncomfortable and unnatural his body feels, but pushes past what he’s beginning to diagnose as _dysphoria_. “I have a request.” He hands the book back to Klaus, who takes it with a hefty amount of confusion. Several of the pages have been bookmarked, with a few sticky notes peeking out from the pages. Unlike Vanya’s book, which had been freely marked in the absence of anyone to scold him, Klaus’s had been left respectfully blank.

“I’ve marked a few I’d like. Can you do socks?” Five asks, brusque and no-nonsense. He’s dying to get out Klaus’s room, to avoid the fascination and wonderment as she flips through the pages. Her brow furrows at his request.

“Maybe. I’ve mostly been doing scarves.” Klaus looks up, a knowing gleam in her eye. “Trying to be discreet?”

Five nods, far too quickly. Thankfully, Klaus speaks for him. “Makes sense. These would work really well with the grey of your uniform.” Klaus frowns and shoots Five a _look_. “Allison might want to take you shopping one day. I know she took Vanya out recently.” Klaus waves a hand around her room. “Repairing the mansion barely dented the funds from her career.”

Five latches onto the conversation like a lifeline, but puts on the airs of indifference. “How _is_ Vanya doing? I haven’t seen her lately.”

Klaus pauses, laying her finger between the pages. She shares a look with who Five assumes to be Ben. She shifts her gaze back to Five. “Power-wise? Definitely improving. She and Diego are planning on heading out into the courtyard within the next few weeks. There’s a _massive_ storm coming and they wanna test what she can do in a controlled environment.”

Five nods to himself. “Makes sense.” He levels his gaze at Klaus. “But you’re not telling me everything.”

Klaus winces. “Well, it’d be breaking something even more serious than the Bro Code. Sooo. . .” she trails off, clearly mentally weighing her options. “Let’s just say if you want someone who understands what you’re going through, talk to Vanya.” Klaus taps the book once more, where it laid open on the _asexual_ page, throwing in a knowing wink. “Or me.~”

Klaus sighs suddenly, and shakes her head. “I know, Ben. But Diego isn’t the best at self-awareness. We can’t recommend our little Number Five to _him_.”

“Anyway,” Five interrupts, before Ben and Klaus can get into an argument over something he doesn’t care to get involved in. “Can you do it?”

Klaus refocuses on him, nodding slowly. “Yeah, probably. It’ll take a while, though.”

Five shrugs. “I can wait.”

* * *

Thunder rumbles over the Academy, rain lashing the windows hard enough to rattle them in their frames. Bright blue-white light that doesn’t follow the pattern of lightning streaks across Five’s field of vision, crumbling brick and shattering mortar.

Five can hear Diego shouting above the gale-force winds and the cataclysmic chords of the violin. Something cracks, a mix of glass and cannon. Five jumps from his vantage point at the window, crashing backward into Klaus. Memories sear through them both, Klaus windmilling back and Five spinning on his heel, fists raised.

Both men pant heavily, wild instincts calming as they recognize family from foe. “Come on, Five, don’t scare me like that,” Klaus bemoans, laying a dramatic hand over his heart. “I have a delicate constitution!”

Five rolls his eyes. “Where were you even going?” he spits, taking a step back.

“Kitchen,” Klaus chirps, flashing his hands in peace. “Allison bought ice cream!”

Five droops, sighing. He flaps a hand at Klaus, letting him pass. “Lead the way,” he snarks, shooting daggers at Klaus’s back once his brother walks by him. Five smirks into thin air as he blinks into the kitchen.

A minute later, Klaus storms in, pouting with crossed arms. “You’re _so_ not fair,” he whines as he crosses the room. Klaus bends down in the freezer and picks up a tub of ice cream. Five is already making a bowl, smiling at the little note Allison had pinned to the fridge.

_Rocky Road - Chocolate Chips - Luther_

_Butter Pecan - Peach Sauce - Diego_

_Strawberry - Whipped Cream - Allison & Vanya _

_Pistachio - Maraschino Cherries - Klaus_

_Peanut Butter - Marshmallow Fluff - Coffee Liqueur - Five_

_NO STEALING / CROSS-EATING!!!_

Five smirks up at Klaus, a practical halo of innocence forming behind his hair due to the after-effects of the rampant lightning. He pours a heavy amount of coffee liqueur onto his ice cream before blinking onto the kitchen table, sitting cross-legged. Klaus joins him with his own heaping bowl, kicking the freezer door shut as he goes.

They eat in silence for the most part, content to listen to Vanya’s harmony.

Klaus sets his bowl aside first, half-melted. He twirls a cherry stem around his tongue, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a skein of yarn. Five glances over, eyes widening. ⅔ of a sock sits on a circular needle, the first few colors of the genderqueer flag already knitted into a v-shaped pattern. Purple has bled into white, and Klaus is beginning on the green.

“You’re further along than I expected,” Five admits. It’s a veiled compliment, but Klaus beams at him nonetheless.

“Danke! First few go-arounds I _really_ fucked up on since I didn’t know how to use circulars, but once I got the hang of them they were _so_ much easier than double-pointed.”

Five gives him a flat stare, the words Klaus used flying right over his head. Klaus sighs and waves him off, shaking his head. “Just know they’ll fit and be comfortable and be pretty.”

“What’s pretty?” Diego asks, entering from the side door. Rain drenches every inch of his clothes, his hair sticking to his head and making him look like a drowned rat. Vanya follows after him, her casual clothes dyed white with power.

She also happens to be completely dry, and Five barely resists snickering. He shoots her a smile instead, and Vanya gives a shy wave back. She sets her violin case on the table next to Klaus, the power leaching out of her as her eyes dim.

“That’s really well-made, Klaus,” she says, voice soft. Keeping herself down.

Klaus grins and pats Vanya on the head, before leaning back and staring at Diego upside-down. “I’m knitting a set of socks for Five,” he says, before sitting back up and waving the yarn around. Diego catches the ball before it can land in the bowl of ice cream he made.

Vanya leaves the table to make her own, and Diego tosses the ball back onto the table. It lands perfectly as he leans against the counter. “Any special reason?”

Five isn’t one to mince words. Be nervous, sure. Terrified of the unknown, sure. Worried over familial rejection, sure. But once he’s set on something, it’s carved in stone, and neither God nor the Commission can stop him. Or her. Sometimes. Five isn’t sure yet.

“I’m not straight. Or cis.”

Diego blinks once before taking another bite of ice cream. “Cool.”

“Oh!” Vanya sounds more shocked, and Five turns to her. She sets the whipped cream back in the fridge, and moves onto the table next to Five. Accordingly, he scoots over. She smiles at him, tentative but welcome. She’s always been his closest sibling. “Same. For the 'not straight' part, at least.”

The admission is quiet, fearful, something private to be shared only betwixt the closest of family members. Klaus is too busy fighting a stitch to care, or judge, and Diego too busy mocking Klaus to ever hate on his sister for something she can’t control. Powers, sexuality - it's all innate. The choices are what pisses Diego off.

Five smiles in return. “Good to hear it.”

She laughs, tired and weary to the world. Vanya putters the spoon around her bowl, tapping it against the edge in a slow beat. The argument grows louder next to them.

“Hey, Five?”

Five turns to her, spoon in his mouth. “Yeah?” he asks around a mouthful of ice cream, swallowing before continuing to speak. “What’s up?”

“It’s okay to change, you know.”

“What?”

Vanya meets his eyes, taking a bite of her own dessert. “If you ever feel like the labels you chose don’t fit anymore, you can change. You technically don’t even need one. Kinda like our names.” She fiddles with the edge of her jacket, the zipper clanging. “I - I didn’t realize what I was for a really long time.” Vanya laughs, bitter and regretful. “But with people like Klaus and Allison around - family and friends you can trust - it goes a long way.”

“Sure,” Five says slowly. Vanya’s rambling, but Five is used to that. He rambled for a very long time with Dolores, after all. If she can understand him, he can understand Vanya.

“Basically, what I’m trying to say is that we’ll believe you this time around. However you feel, whatever you see. . . We’ve all got each other’s backs now. We have to.”

And it looks like she’s trying to understand him, too.

Five and Vanya share a smile, clinking their bowls together in a mock toast.

The serenity doesn’t last, however. Grace’s voice echoes through the kitchen, a warm scolding. “Children, it’s so very late. Why are you all eating now?”

Diego and Klaus pause their argument to look up, and Vanya jumps.

“Diego dear, you’re soaked!”

“Mom -”

Five smirks and blinks away, taking her ice cream with her. Maybe tonight she can try her hand at being a girl. And even if it doesn’t work, everything would be okay, just like Vanya said.


End file.
